


Always wins

by Apuzzlingprince



Series: Witcher Fanfics [3]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Creepy, M/M, Obsessive Behavior
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-10
Updated: 2018-02-10
Packaged: 2019-03-15 20:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13620762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Apuzzlingprince/pseuds/Apuzzlingprince
Summary: Tumblr prompt: O'Dimm becomes a little too fascinated with this Witcher who defeated him.





	Always wins

**Author's Note:**

> A small something for Gaunter O'Dimm/Geralt, since people on tumblr were interested! The fic ends a bit ominously, but don't worry: Gaunter's probably going to try (mostly) traditional methods to woo his witcher.

Gaunter fell easily into obsession. This wasn't something he was complaining about – being prone to obsession was a useful quality to have when one’s hobbies involved collecting souls, a pastime which often required him to pursue an addition to his collection over several decades. Being obsessed meant he was generally five steps ahead of his quarry; he had contingency plans, and contingency plans for his contingency plans, and consequently it was very rare for someone to be able to outsmart him. Only two people had managed, in fact. Two people out of the several thousand souls he had laid claim to.

One had to dig deep in order to uncover the story of his first defeat, and it was only a partial rendition: the man hadn’t lived long enough to tack on what had occurred after, and he suspected, had that information been in circulation, Geralt wouldn’t have been so foolish as to challenge him to a match. But he had, and he would face the consequences of that in time.

He found the witcher considerably more interesting than his forerunner. During his first defeat, he'd had no reason to believe humans possessed the intellectual capacity to solve his puzzles. They had failed to solve even his simplest of challenges in the past and had died slowly and painfully and spent a couple of years on his rack as punishment for their hubris. He had grown complacent, and he would readily admit his efforts during that particular battle of wits had been more perfunctory than anything else. But the witcher hadn’t had such an advantage. He had faced Gaunter while Gaunter was at his best, while Gaunter was employing everything in his arsenal to trick Geralt into his waiting hands, and yet the witcher had _still_ won.

The defeat angered Gaunter, frustrated him, so much so that he had slipped into his true form in those final moments. But it also made the witcher a curiosity.

(The other man had interested him too, initially, before he had lost his mind; he expected the witcher would be more durable.)

Unable to reach Geralt on the plane of existence the witcher had banished him to, he had to take a different route to initiate contact: dreams. Dreams weren’t Gaunter’s area of expertise; he had always found little pleasure in manipulating them and hadn’t bothered to hone the skill beyond what was necessary to harass certain people, but it was easy enough to twist the witcher’s subconscious to his designs. The man was already prone to nightmares. Gaunter only needed add a cliff here and a loved one there to send him gasping awake. He particularly enjoyed stringing together several dreams to create a comprehensive story, the end of which would leave the sort of ache that would linger.

The witcher’s pain was a curious thing. He suffered so profoundly and yet so quietly, like an animal that had crawled into a dark space to die in solitude from its wounds. Each new nightmare uncovered a new pain, a new anxiety, a new fear. He had so very many of them. More than the average person, even. But the pain was only one curiosity, and Gaunter found the witcher interesting to observe regardless of what he was doing or experiencing. Consequently, the nightmares weren’t the only dreams Gaunter observed. Like any other human, Geralt would have pleasant dreams. Gentle ones. Silly ones. Romantic ones. _Carnal_ ones. These were just as intriguing as the nightmares, in their own way, and he found himself observing with rapt attention all the simple things that made the witcher happy: chaste kisses and holding hands, fingers in his hair and lips on his neck, cuddling in bed and sharing a bath – the list went on and on, and considering what he knew of the witcher, he was surprised his desires were so simplistic and sweet in nature. One would expect a man who had lived almost a hundred years to seek pleasure through more dangerous avenues, but Geralt considered a little biting and scratching and perhaps some shackles and a blindfold to be the height of sexual exploration.

Purely out of curiosity, he started manipulating those dreams too. Placed Geralt with men instead of women. Applied the sort of scratching that drew blood and the sort of biting that bruised. Made him do all sorts of interesting contortions of his body and drew out sounds better suited to animals. He introduced implements: whips, and blades, and rope, and phallus objects, and didn’t notice he was getting carried away until he inserted _himself_ into one of the dreams.

Dreams were devoid of sensation. The witcher’s skin provided no stimuli even as Geralt arched and pressed into his exploring palms, even as he eased his cock into the witcher and watched the man writhe and groan. He did not feel the blood well up under his fingers when he drew his nails down Geralt’s sides, and he did not feel the skin quiver, and he did not feel the reverberation of the witcher’s cry, or the clench of him around his cock –

And he wanted to feel those things, he realized. Oh, how he wanted to feel them. He had never wanted like this before. He had never needed to, because Gaunter O’Dimm could have almost anything he desired within a clap of his hands, and so he had learned to want very little at all. It overwhelmed even his desire for the witcher's soul.

It was startling, disorientating – the witcher had managed to hinder his fiendish designs yet again, this time without lifting a finger. But that was alright, he told himself. It was alright because claiming _this_ from the witcher wouldn’t necessitate a battle. He would simply have to convince the man to reciprocate, and the witcher would be convinced. He _would_.

Because Gaunter O’Dimm always won, eventually.


End file.
